In a Heartbeat
by 0074
Summary: Contains a good dose of Harry and Ruth. Set after the end of s8, so assume spoilers for up to there. Anything else is pure speculation and spin on my part.
1. Chapter 1

**heartbeat **1. A single complete pulsation of the heart 2. A vital unifying force or driving impulse 3. An instant 4. The regular movement or sound that the heart makes as it sends blood around your body.

* * *

Despite Harry calling in numerous favours during the five days that had passed since the explosion, Section D was still visibly understaffed, and hopelessly overworked. Another new face would be joining the team on Monday, as would an old friend who had agreed, and been given clearance, to lend a hand for a while and help get everyone up to speed.

Right now the grid was almost empty, although it was not quite four-thirty. Ruth, Tariq and a couple of admin staff had been the only ones present for most of the day, until Harry had walked through the door half an hour ago, and headed straight for his office without a word to anyone.

The pounding in Harry's head had been present all afternoon, along with the low-grade tension that had first spread its tentacles across his neck and shoulders in the wake of an early morning disagreement with the Home Secretary. A heated meeting of the JIC compounded matters, and the strain had erupted into a full blown headache.

As Harry sat at his desk, he flexed his fingers and stretched his arm in an effort to regain feeling in it. Pins and needles morphed into a stabbing sensation, and he winced, moving his right hand to rub at his chest and shoulder.

"Harry?" Ruth was standing in the doorway, her brow furrowed. "Harry, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Why?"

"You look, well, you look like you're in pain." She moved incrementally into the office, watching him closely.

"It's nothing. Just a headache ... maybe a pinched nerve or something. I was hoping for an early night for a change, but it doesn't look like that will be possible any time soon." Harry stood to walk toward her, keen to dispel her concern, but the effort brought on a sudden, stronger pain, and his step faltered. Clutching at his chest, he swayed and closed his eyes to stop the room spinning, afraid he might throw up.

"Harry?" He was aware of Ruth's hands gently, but firmly, guiding him back to the chair, and supporting his weight as he slumped into it. Harry breathed deeply, and opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't, as a new wave of pain hit him afresh.

"Tariq!" Ruth yelled, knowing that Harry was most certainly not fine, "TARIQ!"

Moments later, Tariq appeared, quickly taking in the pained expression on Harry's grey face, and reaching for the phone. As he dialed, he listened to Ruth reeling off questions to Harry, who responded with as little effort as possible. Then Tariq heard a voice at his ear and turned his attention back to the phone. "I need an ambulance ... Yes ... Thames House ..."

Ruth was conscious that Tariq had gotten through, but the rest of the phone conversation was lost on her as she focused on Harry, whose face was now very pale with a tinge of blue around the lips. She loosened and removed his tie, undoing the top button of his shirt. "Harry. Don't ... don't try to move. Just stay still ..." Her voice trailed off as he fumbled for her hand and grasped it tightly.

"Feels like … like … an elephant … sitting on my chest," he said.

Ruth's face fell momentarily, but she quickly replaced her concern with a nervous half-smile and tried to crack a joke. "Elephant? I thought we already had enough of them sharing the room with us?" She'd never seen Harry as vulnerable as this, never imagined she would, and it had thrown her a little off balance. In fact it was scaring her, but she was determined to try not to show it.

"Ambulance is on its way," Tariq said as he hung up the phone. "I'll go downstairs and wait for it." He smiled wanly at Ruth and raced out the door.

The office was silent now, except for the sound of Harry's breathing which had grown shallow. He had given in to the pain and closed his eyes again, occasionally groaning, and beads of sweat were forming at his temples.

"Harry, how long have you been feeling like this? Why didn't you say something?"

He wanted to speak, but once again, he couldn't. Instead, he looked up at her, still holding her hand tightly, and she could see liquid fear in his eyes.

Squeezing Harry's hand, Ruth moved her other hand up to his face, stroking gently across his forehead and coming to rest on his cheek. "You're going to be okay Harry … you'll be okay," she said softly, as much to reassure herself as him.

* * *

The medics first examined Harry, then lifted him onto a stretcher. Ruth stood beside Tariq watching them. She didn't say a word, but her eyes darted vigilantly between Harry and the medics, carefully observing every move, and ready to intervene should she deem it necessary. Her curiosity almost got the better of her when they placed a tablet under his tongue, but then she remembered it was common practice to administer nitroglycerin in such situations.

As the medics began wheeling the stretcher out to the waiting ambulance, Ruth looked uncertainly toward Tariq, who gave her a small nod. "Go, we'll be alright," he said. "I can ring you if I need to."

Ruth hesitated slightly, torn, and so he said it again. "It's okay, you go."

She nodded. "Thank you." Then before Tariq knew it, she had grabbed her coat from the back of her chair and disappeared with Harry, calling over her shoulder, "Phone Lucas!"

Tariq looked around him at the now almost deserted grid, and let out a long, loud, shaky breath.

* * *

**TBC**

**Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

**Assuming you want to keep reading, I think I can promise reasonably fast updates because the story is already complete (in fact this chapter is several months old). It was all written before the recent s9 spoilers saw the light of day, and is now getting the beta treatment. **


	2. Chapter 2

Arriving at the hospital's emergency ward, a doctor and several nurses had immediately descended on Harry. They checked his blood pressure, and took a blood sample which was rushed away for testing. That was followed in quick succession by a chest x-ray and an injection of painkillers. Then he was hooked up to another ECG machine.

Ruth assumed that Harry's position in MI5 must have been made known to the powers that be. Either that or his condition was … was … she didn't really want to think about what else it could mean. It was enough that he warranted special treatment. For that she was very grateful.

In the ambulance, she had seen Harry begin to panic. He'd been hooked up to a small monitor and was conscious of the fluctuation in his heart rate which he could hear beeping dramatically, and which was visible to Ruth in the leaping lines on the monitor. She had reached out and taken hold of his hand again, and he had calmed somewhat.

Now in the hospital, where he'd been transferred from the stretcher to a bed, Harry lay with his shirt open, a series of wires stuck to his chest and connecting him to the much larger and louder hospital-strength ECG machine. The special treatment appeared to have entitled him to a private room, where he was now alone with Ruth who was sitting in a chair by his side.

He hadn't tried to speak, mostly on account of the mask over his mouth, pumping oxygen into him, regulating his breathing. What had been a shallow, shuddering sound earlier was now quieter and steady, and after a while, Ruth realised Harry had fallen asleep. At first she was worried something might be wrong, but was reassured by the rhythm of his breathing and his face having regained some colour.

Satisfied that Harry was alright for the time being, Ruth stepped into the corridor to phone the grid. Tariq answered promptly and listened quietly as Ruth updated him on Harry's condition. He was subdued, and she promised to ring him again in the morning, or earlier if anything changed. Then he passed the phone to Lucas, and Ruth repeated what she had told Tariq.

Lucas urged Ruth to stay with Harry for the time being. "He needs someone, Ruth. He needs you. And we need someone to keep us in the loop. We'll cope without you for a while. And if not, then we'll call you. Okay?"

"Okay." She nodded, despite knowing he was unable to see her, and watched a nurse approaching from the other end of the corridor. "Thanks Lucas. I … I'd better go, they don't much like phone calls around here."

"We'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Ruth."

"Bye, Lucas."

* * *

Every ten minutes or so, a nurse appeared and checked the monitor. Then finally, after about an hour, the doctor materialised and addressed Ruth. "Mrs Pearce?"

"Er, no." Ruth shook her head. "I'm a colleague. And friend. Good friend."

"What about next of kin?"

"I, er … his daughter. But she's overseas, unable to be contacted." Ruth was unsure what she should say, what she could say, so decided to call upon her spook sense, act confident, and wing it. _It's what Harry would do._ "I think you'll find that I'm authorised to make decisions on Harry's behalf. So if you tell me what needs to happen, I'll take care of it." _Please. Just tell me and help Harry._

The doctor opened the file he held, and read for a moment, weighing up his options. Then, giving a little sniffle, he looked at her warily. "Very well … put simply, Mr Pearce, er, Sir Harry, has had a heart attack. There are varying degrees of severity with these situations, and in this case it is quite serious. Has he been under a lot of stress lately?"

Ruth's head spun for a moment as she processed what he'd said. _A serious heart attack ... Has he been under a lot of stress? … Yes of course he has! Stress would be an understatement._ She realised the doctor was waiting for an answer. "Yes. You could say that. His job is … rather specialised. And he's had a lot of … issues to deal with lately, especially this week."

"Right, well, that's probably been a major contributing factor. Aside from that though, there are other signs too, things like high cholesterol, and he is in a susceptible age group. All of which adds up to a heart attack waiting to happen."

"So, a heart attack. What can you do now?"

"Each case is different. We need to run a few more tests, but it looks like Sir Harry's going to need a bypass. We'll finish the tests tonight, just to be sure, but the operation's been scheduled for first thing in the morning. And we'll need some forms signed. The nurse will speak to you about that."

Ruth felt the need to know exactly what they were going to do to Harry. So in answer to her questions, the doctor described how they would harvest an artery or vein, probably from Harry's leg, and graft it to his heart so it would pump blood around the blockage. "He'll be in intensive care for a day or so, and then he'll need another few days on a ward before he can go home and rest."

Ruth blanched a little at the explanation, and dreaded the thought of anyone trying to make Harry take a break. Even after being been shot by Tom, he'd checked himself out of hospital and returned to work before he should have. "What about afterward? What happens then?"

"It'll take him a little while to recuperate, and even then he's going to have take it easy, make some changes to his lifestyle. There are plenty of things he can do to help … maintain a good diet, get regular exercise, eliminate or restrict caffeine and alcohol consumption. And he needs to learn to manage the stress, and find ways to relax. Stress is mostly caused by bottling up emotions, particularly anger and frustration, and it sounds like he has plenty of that."

* * *

"Ruth? … Ruth?"

Ruth jerked awake at the sound of Harry's voice. He was sitting up and smiled at her as she turned in the chair where she had been dozing. "Harry. You're awake."

"I am. What time is it?"

"It's getting late," said Ruth, looking at her watch. "After ten."

"You should be at home, getting some proper sleep."

She looked at him pointedly. "I'm fine, Harry. How are you feeling?"

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, as if steadying himself, then reopened them, his mouth turning up at the edges. "I've been better. So, what did they say?"

Taking a deep breath, Ruth started in, repeating to Harry what the doctor had explained to her earlier. Harry wasn't in any condition to argue, but that didn't mean he had to like it, and he let out a sigh. "I don't know, Ruth. Are they certain there's no alternative?"

"You need the operation, Harry. If there was another way, they would have said so. Now you just need to let them help you."

"I know." He nodded. "You should go home Ruth, get some sleep."

"I'm staying here, Harry. Please don't try to stop me. I can sleep just as well here." Her look was daring him to challenge her, but he didn't. Instead, he lay back with an intense look focused on her, and an indecipherable expression in his eyes. She dragged the chair closer and reached for his hand. "Go back to sleep, Harry. You need to rest. We'll talk tomorrow."

"The team … "

"Go to sleep, Harry."

* * *

**More to come :)**

**NB: All the heart attack signs and treatment you read about in chapters 1 and 2 are based on fact. In reality Ruth would not have been the one in charge of explaining to Harry what was going to happen operation-wise - the doctor would have done that - but then we wouldn't get the Ruth and Harry conversation the way it is, and hey, this is make-believe.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Another chapter to sustain those of you waiting for series 9 to start :)**

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* * *

**

The next morning when Ruth woke, she watched Harry sleeping, until the nurse came in to say they needed to prepare him for surgery, and left Ruth to wake Harry. They had fallen asleep last night holding hands, and were still connected. Ruth squeezed his hand gently, rubbing his forearm with her other hand. "Harry, wake up … Harry … it's time to wake up."

It took a minute, but he stirred, opened his eyes and smiled at her, then closed them. _Ruth. Ruth!_ Harry's eyes flew open again with the realisation he wasn't dreaming.

Ruth pursed her lips together in a knowing smile. "You're in hospital, remember?"

"I do now. How long?"

"Till the operation? Not long. The nurse will be back soon to get you ready."

"I'm not sure that it's possible to be ready for this, Ruth."

"They know what they're doing, Harry. You'll go in, they'll operate, and then you'll be back in action in no time." She raised her eyebrows and gave him a mischievous grin. "If you behave yourself."

"Yes. Yes, I know. You're right. I'm just … it's nothing." He shook his head and they sat silently, till Harry spoke again. "Ruth, yesterday, in my office ..."

"You don't need to say anything."

"Yes, but ... well, thank you. For what you said, and for staying with me. It means a lot."

Before Ruth could respond, the nurse returned and Ruth stood to leave. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Ruth shook her head. "Don't. Don't say anything. I'll be here when you get back. I promise." She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, holding there for a moment, then straightened and cleared her throat. "See you soon."

With a final smile, Ruth turned and walked out the door.

* * *

At eight o'clock, Harry was taken into the operating theatre.

After a quick trip home to shower and change, Ruth returned to the grid. Harry's operation was expected to take at least three or four hours, so it would be lunchtime before Ruth was able to see him again. That gave her time to compile the situation report, and maybe even sort through the mess of files that had accumulated on her desk over the last week.

On her arrival, Ruth was greeted by Tariq and Lucas who enquired after Harry. Ruth's summary was typically empathetic. "You know Harry, not exactly effusive about how he's feeling. But I think he's been given a fright. It's serious, but fixable. He just needs to take the time to get better."

A discussion ensued about how long Harry should be absent from the grid, and whether that was comparable to how long they would be able to actually keep him away. Lucas reported that they were expecting Simon Glen to arrive shortly. "He's being sent over from Six to fill in for Harry. The DG himself arranged the secondment as soon as he got word of Harry's status. Do you know anything about him, Ruth? Simon, I mean."

"Simon Glen? Ah, yes, a bit … he's been with the Services almost as long as Harry. Not from a military background though. I think he was recruited straight from Cambridge. Specialised in organised crime, and spent a lot of time in the States and Asia. He was brought home a few years ago, parachuted into a position as Section Chief over at Six. Bit of a reputation apparently."

"Reputation for what?" Lucas asked.

"Ah ... Lucas?" Tariq interrupted, nodding his head to indicate an arrival on the grid. Lucas and Ruth turned to see Simon Glen himself surveying the surroundings regally.

"That kind of reputation." Ruth muttered as the three of them walked over to introduce themselves.

* * *

Adjourning to the meeting room so they could start the morning briefing, Simon got straight to the point. "So, what's being done about the team here? You're rather short on the ground aren't you?"

"Yes. I'm sure you're aware of what happened," said Lucas. "We are a bit low on numbers at the moment, but that's being rectified. We've got two more officers starting on Monday." He looked at Ruth, inviting her to elaborate.

"Dimitri Levendis. He's spent a lot of time recently working closely with Customs and Excise. Bit of an expert on piracy." Ruth chose her words carefully now. "And Malcolm Wynn-Jones. Malcolm's returning after … a leave of absence. Technician and data analyst. One of the best." Ruth didn't get the feeling that Simon would warm to the idea of an officer being brought out of retirement to bulk out the team. She needn't have worried though, as Simon was more interested in the first name she had mentioned.

"Dimitri? Interesting. Well, we'll have to see how things pan out on Monday then. Right, now, situation report. What's going on? What do I need to know?"

"You already know about the Summit Hotel investigation. In addition to that, we've been brought in by the Ministry of Defence to look into people connected to an incident in the Indian Ocean," said Lucas, again looking to Ruth, who had carried out the background research.

"More than forty ships have been hijacked in the last year alone. Three-quarters of them were ransomed for as much as a million pounds each. The increase in piracy has impacted on shipping insurance, and on the cost of shipping petroleum, electronics, food and countless other commodities. Not to mention ninety crew who are still being held captive." It rankled Ruth that this situation was little known by the community at large, and her frustration showed.

Simon said nothing, just leaned back in his chair nodding, so Ruth reached for the remote and pressed a button. The large screen on the wall flickered on to reveal an oil tanker at sea. "This is the _Firmitas_," explained Ruth. "It _was_ owned by a Scandinavian oil company. Six months ago it was attacked off the coast of Africa, commandeered, and the crew were taken hostage. They were eventually released, for a price of course, but the ship remained in the hands of the pirates. Four days ago, the same tanker, sailing under a Liberian flag, was finally sighted by one of our warships after it was picked up by satellite."

Now Lucas took up the narrative. "Several of our naval warships are part of an EU task force patrolling a zone of almost two million square miles. The navy has been using boarding teams for over a hundred years, and even now they're deploying them for search and seizure operations. Our warship and several boarding teams engaged against the _Firmitas_, but the pirates aren't too keen on risking their lives, and escaped on smaller crafts of their own."

"Sounds like it's just as well Dimitri is joining the Section. His experience should prove quite useful," said Simon. "But why are Five involved? Piracy in international waters should be a job for Six if anything."

"Normally yes, but as you can see here, the _Firmitas_ is no longer in service," said Lucas, directing Simon's attention back to the screen. The footage reached the crucial point, where clear blue sky and calm sea were abruptly shattered when a fireball erupted into a spectacular explosion, destroying the tanker. "We believe a load of oil was still on board, along with a large stash of firearms. Enough to generate that explosion which was heard hundreds of miles away."

"And?" asked Simon impatiently.

It was Ruth who responded. "As you'd know, there are strong links between piracy and organised crime. Piracy is big business. There's evidence that it's growing, and that gangs of criminals are now working across borders. A triad in China provided the firearms we believe were on board the _Firmitas_, and GCHQ recently intercepted chatter between a British shipping company employee, and a suspect with connections to the triad. The guns were smuggled to China from here."

"So we're tracking the suspects in Britain to sever the financial backing and eliminate the war chest," said Simon. "Right, well, you'd better all get back to it then. We're not going to solve anything sitting round here."

With that, Simon stood and marched out of the room, heading straight for Harry's office. Ruth, Lucas and Tariq were left looking slightly bemused.

"Do you think he's going to be hands-on like Harry then?" asked Tariq.

"There's _nothing_ about that man that's remotely like Harry," replied Ruth.

* * *

**Three chapters down ... and a few more to go yet :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**New team members, pirates, explosions ... what about Harry?**

* * *

Ruth managed to arrive back at the hospital just minutes before Harry was transferred from recovery to ICU. As the porters locked his bed in position and went on their way, she stood back taking everything in.

Harry was awake, though barely, and woozy from the anesthetic. A catheter was stuck in a vein in the back of his hand, connected to a drip delivering fluids and antibiotics, and a large white dressing covered the wound on his chest where they'd opened it to operate. He looked very tired, and much older than he actually was. He looked so different, it almost took her breath away.

Ruth stayed near the door, deciding what to do next. Harry groaned, trying to sit up a little straighter. "Ruth. You … I didn't expect ... You'll be needed on the grid."

"I've been there all morning. Everything is fine Harry. Now, it's probably a stupid question, but how are you feeling?"

"Right at this moment, I'm not really sure." He croaked, licking his lips to try and moisten them. "I'm thirsty though."

Walking over to the stand by the bed, Ruth poured a glass of water and handed it to Harry, "Here," she said taking his hands and placing them on the glass. His hands trembled as he tried to lift the glass, so Ruth put her hand on his and carefully guided it to his mouth.

A small mouthful of water was all he could tolerate, but seemed to do the job. "Thank you," he whispered as Ruth returned the glass to the stand.

"Do you want some ice chips?"

Harry shook his head. "Not right now."

"I'm really pleased to see you sitting up, I actually expected ..." _No, probably shouldn't go there_, thought Ruth. "You need to rest though. And I'd better get back. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Lucas and Tariq want to come and see you later, see for themselves how you're doing. They said they'd come tonight. Is that okay?"

"Yes." It was actually the last thing he wanted, but he knew how it worked.

"I … I'll be staying on duty when they come. But I'll phone you, to see how you are ... say goodnight. If that's okay?" She smiled at him nervously. "And I'll come and visit again tomorrow?"

Harry nodded and smiled weakly back at Ruth. "Thank you. I'd like that."

* * *

When Simon came wandering out of Harry's office asking for information about the transfer of new officers, Tariq did his best to cover for Ruth, and explain her absence. A lunch meeting seemed an acceptable excuse to Simon, who just _hmmed_ and walked back to the office.

Simon's presence on the grid felt very different to Harry's, and had already generated plenty of evidence they wouldn't get on. He had asked nothing about Harry personally or professionally, not even to ascertain how he was faring in hospital. From his dismissive manner, the team came to the conclusion that they must have met in the past, but were definitely not on the best of terms.

Tall and stocky, Simon's suits were obviously chosen to help him look the part, but were not flattering. He swanned around with an air of self-importance, keeping chatter to a minimum, but when he did speak, he was loud and his manner often abrasive. It was in stark contrast to Harry who was, in general, quietly authoritative in directing his staff and commanding respect. Harry was also far better dressed in his immaculately tailored suits.

On the surface, Simon Glen may have appeared aloof and uninterested, but the truth was in fact the opposite. Simon was a game player of the highest order. He held his cards very close to his chest, all the while deconstructing everything he saw and heard. Behind the harsh but distant facade, Simon observed the comings and goings of the officers now under his command. When he eventually learned where Ruth had been, he wasn't particularly impressed. "I'd heard Harry Pearce garnered great loyalty from his team, but I never realised it included house calls," he announced loudly enough for everyone on the grid to hear.

Ruth almost choked on the tea she was sipping, and turned a subtle shade of red, but she wasn't going to just sit back and accept a comment like that. "Well, I'm not sure what you're used to, Simon, but in my experience, it's perfectly normal to show concern for your colleagues. And given that Harry is still officially the Head of Section D, and you're only here temporarily, I don't think it's out of order for any of us to visit him when he's recuperating from a heart attack." She glared at him, and the muscles in her face tensed as she turned to her attention to the computer screen, waiting for the fall-out.

Simon looked slightly apoplectic, but didn't respond, just emitted a strange sort of grunt as he walked away. Lucas raised an eyebrow at Tariq, whose eyes were wide with surprise, but neither of them said anything. They figured it was safer that way.

* * *

Just after six o'clock, Harry heard a knock at the door of his room and looked up to see it opening. Lucas and Tariq hovered in the doorway for a moment, then ventured in, complete with sheepish smiles and a large bag of grapes.

"Harry." Lucas gave him a nod of acknowledgment as he moved to stand at the foot of the bed. "How are you?"

"Oh, well, you know … I've had my chest sliced open and stapled together again, so I feel like hell at the moment, but I'm alive which is a good start ... I'm stuck here until at least the end of the week."

"Only that long?" Tariq voiced his surprise from where he'd perched himself on the windowsill.

"So I've been told. A few days in here so they can make sure the wound is healing, and there's no sign of another heart attack. Then it's home for a while."

"So you won't be back at work anytime soon then?" Tariq asked. Lucas frowned at him, as if to say he shouldn't be raising that topic.

Harry simply smiled at him. "Not for a while, I'm afraid. I'm not sure what the DG will want to do about it - "

"Er, actually," Lucas interrupted Harry, "He's already done something."

It was Harry's turn to frown. "What?"

"He's, ah, he's seconded Simon Glen from Six. Made the arrangements last night and he arrived this morning."

There was a pout on Harry's face now. "Simon Glen? That bloody fool?"

"You know him then? Ruth says Simon has spent time in the States, and has plenty of experience with organised crime. That could be helpful at the moment." Lucas shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and grew worried as he saw Harry start to fume over the news.

"Oh yes, I've met him, and yes, his experience might be helpful. But Simon Glen is all about Simon Glen. He's not a team player, and he won't think twice about sacrificing his colleagues if it means advancing his career."

"So not to be trusted?"

"Not as far as I could throw him. Just make sure you watch yourselves."

"We'd better let Ruth in on that advice quickly then," said Tariq.

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow, so Tariq went on. "She's not exactly holding back where Simon's concerned. Already told him her opinion in no uncertain terms on several occasions."

"Well, that's Ruth alright," said Harry shaking his head, "But tell her to watch her step. Simon won't take too kindly to being told what to do, and I don't want him shunting her off to GCHQ."

Lucas and Tariq smiled at each other. Then Lucas inclined his head toward the door. "We'd better go Harry. The nurse out there told us to keep it short. Don't want her blacklisting us."

"Before you go …" Harry stopped them as they headed for the door. "I've only just realised that I'd completely forgotten about Scarlet. She's probably starving, and fretting away in the back garden."

"It's okay, Harry. Ruth remembered her yesterday. Scarlet's taken care of."

He looked relieved. "Thank you. Please tell Ruth thank you too."

Tariq was already halfway out the door when he stopped abruptly, causing Lucas to do the same. "I'm sure she'll be here tomorrow. You can thank her yourself then. " He grinned at Harry, as he and Lucas made a quick getaway, closing the door behind them.

* * *

**Thanks for continuing to read and review.**

**I know I don't really have to say this, but just a reminder that all of this was written before series 9 aired, so despite using new character names and themes, you will find it very different plot-wise compared with what we're seeing on screen.  
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	5. Chapter 5

**A bit more of Harry in hospital ...**

* * *

It was business as usual on Saturday, with the depleted team putting in several hours work despite it being the weekend.

Ruth arrived first and quickly settled herself at her station, headphones in place and concentrating on the chatter recorded overnight. She soon slipped the headphones off when Lucas strode onto the grid. She was anxious to ask how Harry was doing. Lucas assured her that he was coping as well as could be expected, and quietly relayed Harry's opinion of Simon Glen, circumspectly passing on the message to watch her step. "Apparently he wouldn't be averse to sending you, me or anyone else off to the back of beyond, regardless of the situation here."

Ruth was genuinely outraged. "He wouldn't dare. He's just here as caretaker ... surely he wouldn't?"

"That's not what Harry thinks. And you're the one who commented just yesterday about his reputation."

"I know, but … he …" Now the thought had her quite gobsmacked. "Okay. I'll be careful. But I can't make any promises. I won't just sit back and say nothing if I think - "

"Ruth, we just have to suck it up and hold out as long as we can. If it comes to a head, then we'll all be in the same boat. You know that we all want Harry back and in charge."

Ruth looked like she was going to challenge Lucas, but backed off. The last thing Harry needed was for his team to lose their heads with each other.

Around nine-thirty, Simon put in a brief attention-grabbing appearance, issuing orders to the whole team.

He instructed Tariq to conduct a complete audit of the grid's firewalls to make sure there was no way that Nightingale could use back doors to access MI5's computer network. Tariq looked offended at the thought he hadn't covered all those bases several times over, but he had taken Harry's warning to heart and didn't argue.

Lucas was sent off on a mission to meet with several assets who had links to China. They were all known to Simon who gave him the names and a rundown on their backgrounds. It was obvious Simon was a show-off who enjoyed having the upper hand.

Ruth was to continue using the audio intercepts to identify the shipping employee, and was told to expand the search, to cross-match company employees with international travel patterns. Simon had opened his mouth as if he were going to demand something else of her, but closed it again, narrowing his eyes with a slight look of contempt. There was obviously something about Ruth that unsettled him. Then he disappeared to Whitehall, sweeping out the door with a smug expression that told of exhilaration at his new found status.

The team set about their tasks with determination, but a melancholy atmosphere hung over them, and each was hoping for Harry's speedy return.

* * *

"Bloody hell! … I feel like I must be a hundred years old!"

The nurse had insisted a walk was necessary: _Common practice, Sir Harry. All patients must get up and moving the first day after heart surgery. _His response of_ Not bloody likely! _was met with a stern face from both the nurse and Ruth.

So Harry was now shuffling along the corridor, inch by inch, Ruth close by his side. The drip was hanging from a pole on wheels which provided a degree of support, as he gripped it tightly with one hand and grimaced."They don't tell you about this bit, do they? ... Or the delightful uniform." He clearly didn't have a high opinion of the white compression stockings that were visible at the end of each leg of his blue flannelette pyjamas.

"Would you rather swollen legs and a blood clot?"

He answered her with a dirty look.

Stopping at the end of the corridor, they stood together and looked out the window. An ambulance idled at the emergency entrance, and a pattern of blue and white lights glanced off the rain covered bitumen in the car park. Then with a loud exhaling of breath, Harry turned and took a step back toward his room. "I'm not entirely sure I'm going to make it back again, but I'll give it a damn good try. This is not going to beat me."

"We'll both try." Ruth smiled at him and took his free hand, something she realised was fast becoming a habit, then changed the subject. "So, what's for dinner?"

"I think it's what at any other time I'd describe as swill. But right now, I'm feeling hungry enough I'm prepared to eat just about anything."

Ruth laughed. _His sense of humour hasn't disappeared. That's something_.

* * *

After Harry had finished eating what he'd referred to as swill, he and Ruth sat quietly. By unspoken agreement, they were taking it in turns asking questions. Harry was mainly concerned with the situation at Thames House, and Ruth tried to steer him in a different direction, but Harry was particularly inquisitive about Simon Glen. "What about the JIC? It's not like I particularly enjoy the meetings, they can be as painful as pulling teeth sometimes, but I don't want him creating a damn mess that I have to clean up."

"Harry, he's not a complete idiot, I'm sure he knows how it all works."

"He's a pompous so-and-so. I don't know why on earth the DG thought he'd be suitable for the position."

"Yes, well. We don't exactly have much choice at the moment do we?" Ruth raised her eyebrows at him. "So you'd better do as you're told, hadn't you?"

There was a pause in the conversation, until Harry mentioned something that had been worrying him. "Ruth … about Scarlet … I'm told you've been feeding her. I'm embarrassed to say she looks after herself so often, I completely forgot about her. I'm sorry, I didn't even think to ask - "

"It's alright Harry. She's doing fine. A little quiet maybe, but she's okay. I'm sure she'll be happier when you're home though."

"Yes, I'm sure you're right. Thank you all the same."

Just then, the night shift nurse arrived to take a look at the wound on Harry's chest, and replace the dressing. Ruth moved to get up, but Harry stopped her. "It's alright, Ruth. Stay." She sat down again, looking uncertainly at him.

The nurse carefully peeled back the absorbent gauze, revealing a long wound down the centre of Harry's chest, sealed with surgical staples. The skin surrounding it was violet, quite dark at the edges, the residue of iodine applied during the operation. And there was bruising, the result of his sternum being opened and then wired back together. After cleaning the wound with saline solution and replacing the dressing, the nurse checked the monitor lines and the progress of the drip.

"Not a pretty sight is it?" Harry said to Ruth who was trying not to look too closely.

"No, well, I've not seen that before … er, a wound like that I mean. It's a bit of a shock I guess. I would have thought that these days they'd just make a small incision, keyhole surgery or something."

"It's not that easy with some procedures, I'm afraid," said the nurse. "It can be quite confronting when you first see the wound, and there will probably be quite a scar. But it's all looking good, and you should be right to have the catheter removed tomorrow. Save you from dragging that drip pole around with you everywhere." She smiled at Harry. "Ring the bell if you need anything."

* * *

**More chapters are ready and waiting.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I love hearing what you think.**

* * *

The following day, Harry was moved from ICU to a regular ward, and in the evening he was asleep when Ruth arrived to visit him. She sat for a few minutes in case he was just dozing, but then took a notebook out of her bag, wrote on one of the pages and tore it out. Folding the page, she wrote Harry's name on it, and placed it under a glass on the stand by his bed. Then Ruth opened her bag again and took out a small object which she placed in the top drawer.

When Harry woke the next morning, he lay staring at the ceiling for a while, contemplating the day ahead. With concerted effort, he sat up straighter and turned, intending to pour a glass of water. His eyes instantly saw the paper under the glass and he reached for it, careful not to strain his wound as he did so. Ruth's handwriting was immediately recognisable to Harry, and he smiled as he unfolded the paper.

_Harry_

_I'm sure you're already getting impatient with being in bed, and it won't be long before you start thinking about how you can leave hospital as soon as possible. Well don't! You still need to rest. _

_If you look in the top drawer, you'll find something I hope will help take your mind off work, at least for a bit longer._

_Please rest._

_Ruth _

_X_

Harry's smile grew wider as saw the X Ruth had placed under her name. _There's definitely something happening._ His thoughts soon turned to wondering what Ruth could have brought him. He was pleasantly surprised when he opened the drawer to find an mp3 player.

He switched the player on and used his thumb to scroll through the music Ruth had loaded onto it: Verdi, Puccini, Van Morrison, Norah Jones ... _You know me too well, Ruth._ Then Harry laughed so hard his chest hurt, and he grasped at it with his hand, as he saw Ruth had also created a play list called _Harry's musical edification_. It was an eclectic mix of styles and included The Cranberries, Joss Stone, Dire Straits, Jamie Cullum, and U2.

Harry put on the headphones, highlighted Verdi, and pressed play, before laying back and closing his eyes. Ruth was right, he was already starting to feel impatient, but he also understood that his body wasn't ready yet. He knew he needed time to regain his strength. Besides, if it meant regular visits from Ruth, and the chance to envelop himself in his favourite music, the time would be well spent.

* * *

After the Monday morning briefing where they were joined by Malcolm and Dimitri, Simon ensconced himself in Harry's office – it was still Harry's as far his team was concerned - and mostly left them to their own devices. He closed his blinds for the best part of an hour before re-opening them and spending another hour or more on the phone, all the while keeping a close eye on the officers on the grid and shooting off emails, many of them to Ruth.

Mid-morning, Lucas took Dimitri with him to a meeting with the latest CIA liaison officer, and then on to speak with another source whom they hoped might be able to help with the _Firmitas_ investigation.

Malcolm, who had been welcomed with open arms when he walked through the door, was debating use of the latest Trojan software with Tariq, while introducing him to the finer points of bugs. Tariq took it all in his stride, and his enthusiasm for the subject matched Malcolm's.

Ruth was alternating between phone calls and listening to GCHQ intercepts, still trying to identify their mystery man. Yet another email from Simon had appeared in her in box, and she was about to open it when her phone rang, and she welcomed the interruption. "Hello?"

"Hello Ruth."

"Harry?"

"The only and only." He knew she would take the bait if he teased her. "Anything interesting happening I should know about?"

"Harry, please don't start. You know I'm not going to … oh, never mind. How are you? Why are you ringing? Is everything alright?"

"Slow down, Ruth ... I'm fine. I wanted to thank you for your gift. It was a wonderful idea. Thank you."

"Oh. I'm glad you liked it."

"It certainly helped to pass the morning. I don't think I've had such a peaceful few hours in a long time."

Ruth smiled at the enjoyment evident in Harry's voice. "I'm pleased. You need it."

"Well, I'll admit I'm probably not quite ready to take on the might of the JIC just yet."

"I'm glad to hear you realise that ... Harry ..." Ruth could see Simon preparing to leave for a meeting. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I'm going to have to go. Simon is - "

"What's he up to now?"

"Nothing, Harry. It's just he's going to walk past in a minute and I don't particularly want to be caught talking to you. It turns out he's not your biggest fan."

"Simon Glen can go and - "

"Harry!" Ruth interjected in a hushed, but forceful voice.

"What?"

"Go and listen to some more music, Harry." Ruth could hear him laughing as she hung up.

* * *

On Friday, Simon announced that he'd found another new officer for Section D. Beth Bailey had recently completed her training with flying colours, and passed all the necessary clearances. According to Simon, she was a worthy addition and would join the team on Monday. He tasked Ruth with introducing Beth to the workings of the grid.

While new case officers were sorely needed, two in the space of one week brought extra pressure. Ruth felt she needed a clear shift to allocate to Beth on her first day, so she and Tariq tag-teamed with Malcolm for the rest of the day, in an effort to clear files and work through the remaining audio intercepts.

Also on Friday, Harry was officially discharged from hospital. He arrived home with detailed instructions from the doctor about what he was and was not allowed to do with regard to food, exercise and other excesses. He also had a follow up appointment scheduled for four weeks time. Work was strictly off limits until after the check up.

Relieved to be home again, Harry spent most of the afternoon pottering around the garden, tidying up, and talking to Scarlet who had been extremely pleased to see him. By early evening, the book he'd started to read lay on the floor and he'd fallen asleep in his most comfortable chair. Then just before seven o'clock, the doorbell woke him and he sat upright, carefully stretching his arms and wiping sleep from his eyes.

It was Ruth. Harry was both surprised and delighted to see her.

Ruth was laden with bags full of groceries and determined to cook Harry a healthy meal. "You need to start out the way you mean to continue. And I figured you might not feel up to cooking tonight."

"You're right about that, but there's really no need Ruth. I can -"

"Harry ... I'm here, you're here, and there's plenty of food. It's no trouble. Besides, I need to eat too."

Harry made a face, but was tired and nodded toward the kitchen, agreeing without further argument. "Come on then."

Ruth followed him down the hall and into the kitchen. While Harry unpacked the bags, she started chopping vegetables. Before long they were sitting at the kitchen table enjoying grilled chicken and a green mango salad. Both were hungry and ate heartily, Ruth updating Harry on events at Thames House.

"Simon's identified another new officer for Section D," she told Harry warily.

He looked up sharply, fork halfway to his mouth. "Who?"

"New girl. Her name's Beth Bailey, and she's just finished training. Very bright by all accounts."

"Hmm. She'd better be. I don't want to be landed with a hack. It's _my_ team Simon Glen is messing with." There was more than a touch of outrage in his voice.

They continued eating, until Harry pushed his empty plate away. "Thank you, Ruth. That's far and away the best thing I've had to eat in a long time."

"I'm not sure that's saying much, given the state of the hospital food I've seen lately."

"Maybe so, but still."

She smiled and stood to clear the table, but Harry insisted that she had done enough. He would deal with the cleaning up, and no effort would be required. _That's what dishwashers are for. _Ruth conceded the point, and since both were craving an early night after an exhausting week, she left Harry to do as he pleased.

* * *

**Dinner with Harry ... wouldn't you offer? :)**


	7. Chapter 7

The team had been bogged down for several days trying to identify the shipping employee and discover more about the connection with China. When Beth joined Section D just two days after Simon told them about her, she was given a thorough induction to the grid by Ruth. Then she was partnered with Tariq to learn the ins and outs of the computer network, leaving Ruth and Malcolm to concentrate on the operation.

Late Wednesday afternoon, Ruth called out. "Lucas, I've got him." She grinned at Lucas from her desk with satisfaction.

"Our mystery man?"

"Robert Fuller. Rob. Age twenty-six. Unmarried. He's worked as a warehouse manager for Docklands International for eighteen months. Until he was twelve, he lived in Beijing where his father was a diplomat, which explains his ability to speak Chinese."

"And possibly his connections back there as well."

"Yes, maybe. He's also got a conviction for handling stolen goods."

"Okay, so now we know who he is, we can put him under proper surveillance. We need to find out exactly how he's been getting the guns through and who is behind him. " Lucas looked over at Beth who was talking to Dimitri, and sought Ruth's opinion. "What do you think? Give her a go at proving herself?"

"Sure, why not?" Ruth nodded. "Her Chinese is patchy, but it's better than nothing and will probably come in handy."

"I'll get Tariq to go along with her. He could do with a change of scenery, and Malcolm will hold the fort back here. Be like old times."

Beth was delighted to get out of the office, and she and Tariq were soon on their way to Barking Terminal. They would wait for Rob Fuller, and follow him when he left work. With the help of some of Tariq's targeted listening devices, they would record his conversations, relaying them back to Malcolm who would be listening on the grid. Ultimately they would stop Fuller, and eliminate the gun supplier at source.

* * *

When Ruth called to see Harry that evening, he was in a bad mood after a trying day. In the morning he'd had his first session at the Cardiac Rehabilitation Centre where he'd been put through an exhausting physical assessment, and given an exercise program designed to ease him back to full strength. It came complete with more instructions about what he was not allowed to do, like lifting anything too heavy, or mowing the lawn. That meant it also came with a hefty dose of frustration.

Ruth's suggestion that perhaps Harry should consider getting some help around the house, just until he was back on his feet, sparked a disagreement. Soon dinner lay forgotten, half prepared on the kitchen bench, and the disagreement descended into something worse. Harry slowly wound himself up, and Ruth gave as good as she got. Then Harry lashed out in anger.

"Ruth, I've had an operation, and I'm getting better. That's why I'm going to the Rehab Centre. I'm not helpless, and I don't need some busybody sticking their nose in where it's not wanted."

"I'm not talking about invading your privacy - "

"No, you're just asking me to let a stranger into my house. I'd have thought you'd have known better. Besides which it's completely unnecessary."

"Harry - "

"Stop it, Ruth." Harry moved to the middle of the kitchen, struggling to control his temper.

"Harry, I'm just saying - "

"No, Ruth. You're not my mother, and you're not my wife. Just leave me alone!" Harry shouted, turning and storming out of the room.

Ruth stood frozen with one hand on the bench, a little in shock. She'd heard Harry shout before, many times, but couldn't remember him ever shouting at her, not like that. _And what he'd said_ … Taking a shaky breath, Ruth blinked away the tears she felt forming, then fetched her bag and coat. She left without saying goodbye.

Although he was frustrated, and had only been expressing what he was feeling at the time, it didn't take long for Harry to regret it, and how he'd spoken to Ruth. _You're a damn fool, Harry Pearce_. When he had calmed down, he returned to the kitchen, but found it empty. He pulled a chair out from the table, the legs scraping loudly on the floor, and slumped heavily onto it. Resting his elbows on the table, Harry held his head in his hands and closed his eyes, wishing he could start the evening again.

* * *

Eating a quick breakfast, Ruth mulled over what she should do, then headed to work. The grid was a hive of activity all morning, and it was almost lunchtime before she had a chance to catch her breath and act on the decision she had made earlier.

"Malcolm?" Ruth appeared at the door to the forgery suite, where Malcolm was settled in for a long haul.

"Yes, Ruth?" He swiveled around in his chair to face her.

"Malcolm, would you go and see Harry?"

"Yes. I was planning on going round to visit on the weekend."

"I mean, would you go and see him tonight?"

"Tonight?" Malcolm's brow creased in surprise.

"Yes." Ruth looked away for a moment. "We … we had an argument. I know mood swings are to be expected after what he's been through, but he's being so temperamental. He's really not thinking sensibly, and we had a … difference of opinion. I only want to help, but I won't be treated like that."

"Ruth, I'm not sure that I - "

"Please Malcolm? Just make sure he's okay, not overdoing it, eating properly, that's all."

"You can't avoid him forever Ruth."

"I'm not avoiding anyone. I'm just fed up, that's all." She sighed. "If I go and see him, I'm likely to shout back, and I don't want to do that."

"So you're angry at Harry, but what are you expecting from him?" Ruth didn't reply, and finally Malcolm agreed. "Okay, but promise me you won't let this go on too long?"

Ruth nodded in agreement. "Thank you, Malcolm. You're a good friend. To me and to Harry."

* * *

That evening, Malcolm found himself sitting in Harry's living room, feeling slightly ill at ease. It wasn't the first time he'd been there, but he'd never visited socially before. After the customary pleasantries had been exchanged, Malcolm got straight to the point. "Ruth's angry with you."

"I know," said Harry. "I've been trying all day to decide what I should do about it."

"Look, I don't think any of us can pretend to know what this has been like for you Harry, but you've got to let people help you. It doesn't mean you're incapable or a lesser man. It just means people … care about you ... and some a lot more than others." Now Malcolm gave him a very direct look, his mouth twitching upward with an embarrassed half-smile.

Harry nodded. "I didn't mean to shout at her. Really. It just all got too much. It's so bloody frustrating!"

"Yes, well, it's not me you should be saying this to."

"You're the one who's here."

"Although I am very pleased to see you, I'm not the one who you'd prefer to have here though, am I? Or the one who really wants to be here. You must know she asked me to check up on you tonight. Even though she's upset, she still wants to make sure you're alright."

"Malcolm ..." There was a warning tone in Harry's voice.

"Alright, alright." Malcolm had said his piece, and it was time to move on. "Just talk to her. Please? I'll say no more. Now, how about a game of chess?"

Harry appreciated the diversion and nodded in agreement, standing to fetch the chess board from the coffee table.

* * *

**How will Harry apologise?  
**


	8. Chapter 8

For the second day in a row, Tariq was sitting in a freezing cold van waiting for Rob Fuller to make an appearance, and desperately hoping Fuller would reveal even just a scrap of useful information.

A sharp rap on the door signaled Beth's return from a coffee run, and when the door opened she stepped inside carefully so as not to spill the steaming hot liquid. Beth handed one of the cups to Tariq and plonked a large bag of hot chips down beside him.

"Oh brilliant, thanks Beth." He grinned at her.

"Any sign of him?"

"Nope. All quiet." Tariq shook his head as focused back on the screen. Beth made a face and leant back against the wall of the van, warming her hands on the coffee cup. The boredom of surveillance was already wearing thin.

Back at Thames House, Simon was insistent that if they didn't make any progress soon, he would hand the investigation over to Six. "There's no point in wasting time on a case that's insignificant in the bigger scheme of things."

"Insignificant?" Ruth was incredulous.

"We've got bigger fish to fry. The Summit Hotel for one."

Lucas weighed in. "I don't disagree, but - "

"The Summit Hotel should be our priority. If you don't have anything by tonight, I want Fuller brought in for interview in the morning. And if that doesn't give us anything, then we're done." Simon left them with no chance to argue further, walking off and leaving Lucas and Ruth standing alone.

Like Lucas, Ruth couldn't fault Simon's logic, but it didn't stop her from being furious at his attitude. "That man ..."

"Forget it, Ruth," said Lucas. "You know what Harry said. It's not worth it. Let's just hope Rob Fuller gives us something, and soon."

* * *

When Ruth arrived home that evening it was after eight, and she was feeling tired and grumpy. The day had dragged interminably, they didn't really seem to be getting anywhere with the _Firmitas_ investigation, and she had to admit Simon was probably right.

She shuffled through the mail that had been posted through the letterbox. A postcard from a friend who was in Italy for a holiday. _Holidays … if only._ A letter from a charity seeking donations. A bill. _Blast_. Another bill. _Double blast. _Then a plain white envelope with just her name written on the front. _In Harry's writing_.

Ruth unsealed the envelope with trembling hands, removing a card featuring Camille Pissarro's _The Boulevard Montmartre at Night_. The painting reminded her of a past dinner and spirited debate with Harry. She flipped the card open.

_Dear Ruth,_

_I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did, or taken my frustration out on you. I know you only want to help, and I couldn't have made it this far without you. Your support means more to me than I can possibly say._

_I'm not used to having someone worry about what happens to me. I'm a stubborn idiot, but I promise I will try to be less so. _

_I hope you will forgive me._

_Harry_

Ruth smiled. "Thank you, Harry," she whispered, and her shoulders relaxed as the tension moved out of her body.

Minutes later, Harry's mobile vibrated, alerting him to the arrival of a message. He opened and read it, finding just one word: _Friends. _

Harry let out a breath of relief, and his heart lifted.

* * *

It was Saturday again and Simon's deadline had arrived. They'd had no luck with monitoring Rob Fuller, so he had been brought in. Fuller protested his innocence but caved quickly when Lucas began telling him how much they knew about him - every little detail – and what they could, and would, do to make his life difficult.

"Okay, okay!" Fuller's eyes were darting all over the place. From Lucas looming over the table, to Dimitri who stood back a little with his arms folded, then toward the locked door, and back to Lucas again. "I got into debt, and a friend said he knew someone who could help me out."

"You met him in person?"

"Yeah. Just once. He promised me I could earn ten grand, from just one job. That was enough to pay off what I owed. All I had to do was make sure a specific container got through without too close an inspection."

"But that wasn't it was it?" Lucas straightened up and tilted his head as he asked the question.

"No." Fuller swallowed hard. "A few weeks later I got a phone call and he told me there was another job. Another ten grand. And there would be more down the track." He shrugged his shoulders. "Wasn't going to pass up something like that, was I? It was easy money. And no one got hurt."

"No one got hurt … no one got hurt? What do you think those guns were used for?" Lucas had had enough. "Come on Rob, who was the contact?"

For a minute, Fuller didn't look like he was going to give up the details, but Lucas' face grew fiercer, and when he saw Dimitri take a few paces closer, he gave in. "Little Dragon."

"Little Dragon?"

"Yeah. That's his name. Xiao Long."

"Where do we find him?" They could track him down, but Fuller could make it a whole lot easier for them, and himself.

"The Chinese Embassy."

Lucas turned sharply and nodded at Dimitri as he walked over to the door and punched in the code. As the door closed behind Lucas, Dimitri sat down in front of Rob Fuller and smiled. "So. Rob. This is how it's going to work."

* * *

Xiao Long certainly did work at the Embassy. He was one of the trade attaches, and had good reason for legitimate contact with Docklands International. Which meant he was also perfectly positioned to know who could make sure the contents of the containers went undetected, and how to make that happen.

On Sunday evening, with a little help from Malcolm and Ruth, Lucas and Beth broke into the Chinese Embassy and searched the commercial office while Dimitri waited in a van down the street. They were only gone for quarter of an hour, when they returned to the van out of breath.

"That was quick."

"Didn't get too far. A couple of guards showed up and didn't look like they were moving any time soon." Lucas was frustrated they didn't have more time. "We've got something, thanks to Beth. But we're going to need a translator."

One phone call was all it took to have Ruth on the case. And a couple of hours later, a translator was appraising the team of the contents of a series of deleted emails between Xiao Long and a triad member in Shanghai. The same triad that had been linked to the _Firmitas_.

Simon was delighted. The smugglers were identified and being prosecuted, and the guns were out of circulation. It wouldn't stop them for long, but at the very least, they would be forced to look elsewhere for backing. MI5's part of the job was complete and Simon would get a big tick beside his name. Very neat and tidy. Operation closed.

* * *

**Still more chapters to come :)**

**Now that the story of the week is wrapped up, there will be more Harry and Ruth, but before that, the next chapter has a cameo from another character.  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**A short interlude featuring Harry and ... well, it's a surprise.  
**

* * *

As dogs do, Scarlet had known that all was not as it usually was when Harry came home from hospital, and she still spent most of her time sitting as close to him as possible. Scarlet saw herself as his protector, there to watch over him. She was also reveling in the extra time he was able to spend with her, now that he was forced to be at home. Some days it seemed no amount of encouragement would entice her to leave his side. Harry found he had to practically throw her out into the garden for some exercise.

At the precise moment the bell rang at his front door, Harry was standing at the back door talking to Scarlet, having just given her dinner. "Go on, girl. I'm alright. You go out and have a walk ... I'll go and see who's at the door." He gently scooted her out with his foot and closed the door, shaking his head with a chuckle at her reluctance.

Down the hallway Harry could see a tall shadow through the glass in the front door. _Not Ruth early to check up on me then. _He made his way casually down the hall, the bell ringing again as the caller demonstrated either uncertainty at his being home, or impatience at the time he was taking to respond.

Reaching the door, Harry looked through the eye-hole and was astonished at whom he saw waiting. He unbolted the deadlock and another lock, and swung the door open. "Home Sec-, er ..."

"Nick. Just Nick is fine, Harry," said Nicholas Blake, holding out his hand with a wry smile.

Harry overcame his surprise, and shook Blake's hand. "Please … come in." He opened the door wider, gesturing with an open palm, and stood back as the former Home Secretary stepped inside.

It had been several weeks since they had last seen or spoken to each other. Back when Nicholas Blake had walked out of his office to face the media over his controversial and abrupt departure from Parliament. Harry was certainly startled by Blake's appearance on his doorstep, but not unpleasantly so.

Having led the way into the living room, Harry hesitated and stood awkwardly for a moment before offering Blake a drink. Blake accepted and stood, also awkwardly, in the middle of the room, as Harry poured a mineral water for himself and a large whiskey for Blake.

"Not allowed any of the hard stuff yet," Harry said, assuming Blake had heard what had happened. "Four weeks down, one more to go." His face was tainted with frustration as he spoke, handing the glass to Blake, then nodding toward the lounge chairs and moving to sit down.

"I guess not. That's, er, that's partly why I'm here. I heard what happened. You know how it is, word gets around, even where I am these days. And I just, er, thought I should drop by and say hello. See how you are."

"Thank you." Harry smiled. "I appreciate it."

"Well, I'd like to think we're friends Harry. We've been through a lot together. Slightly different perspectives sometimes I know, we haven't always seen eye to eye, but I like to think we've always respected and trusted each other."

Blake looked a bit embarrassed expressing such sentiments openly, so Harry rescued him. "We are friends. And I really do appreciate your concern. I'm doing well, and making good progress so I'm told. Frustrated by all the restrictions, but I'm well." They both laughed, Blake understanding the point Harry was making.

"Yes, I imagine so. I've never seen you as idle, or the sit back and relax type, Harry."

"No, that's really not me. Though under present circumstances, I've no choice in the matter. I have both the doctor _and_ my own team conspiring to keep me out of circulation."

"It is a shame, but I'm sure they just prefer to see your health fully restored and have you back in fighting form."

"Yes, well." Harry decided it was time to deflect the conversation. "And what about you? Have you been keeping busy?"

Blake smiled at Harry, cognisant of his strategy, but content to play along. "Most of the time. Takes a bit of getting used to, retirement. But I've managed to find enough to fill the days. Been playing a bit of golf, spending quality time with my grandson. And I've been writing … my, er, memoirs." Blake watched Harry carefully for his reaction.

"Memoirs?" Harry raised his eyebrows a little. "No doubt that will have more than a few people quaking in their boots when they hear. I look forward to reading them."

"Yes, I imagine you're right. You might get a mention or two of course," Blake said with knowing grin. "The whole thing is quite cathartic actually, reflecting on my life, the idealistic early years in politics and all that. It's a slow process though, and I haven't fully decided what to put in and what to leave out ... Nightingale, for instance."

_Aha, now we're getting to the point_, thought Harry, nodding with a half-smile as Blake continued.

"I'm aware that the situation probably hasn't been resolved. And I know that when I first came to you about the warning I was given, I wasn't completely forthcoming ..."

"I understand, Home ... sorry, Nick. We all have our sources."

"Yes, but I'd like to tell you now, if you don't mind. I think it's necessary. I don't want to be the only one carrying that information around. We both know what it can mean. And the information could prove beneficial to resolving the situation."

"Agreed," Harry nodded in response to Blake's questioning look. "Who was it?"

"Jeremy Cartwright, the American Ambassador."

Blake went on to explain the circumstances surrounding his conversation with the Ambassador, and they sat in silence for a minute or two. Blake watched Harry processing, then Harry nodded firmly, a declaration that he understood and the subject was now closed.

Harry and Blake chatted sociably for a while. They debated the pros and cons of the latest European Union appointment to the UN. And commiserated with each other over the English cricket team's dismal performance against the Australians, each declaring they could have easily scored more runs than the current opening batsmen. Then Blake shared a story about his four-year-old grandson Samuel's escapade climbing a tree, and Harry admitted he wasn't ready to move into the grandparent stage of life himself just yet.

As Blake left, they agreed to meet for dinner. Harry would visit Blake and his wife at their house, and was invited to _bring someone_ if he wanted to, though Blake was careful to insist there was no obligation to do so. Harry promised to phone and confirm arrangements in a week or two, and actually found himself looking forward to the prospect.

* * *

**Ok, so it wasn't Ruth. But she will return in the next chapter, I promise. **

**Harry and Nicholas Blake were a great on-screen combination. **

**When I re-read this before posting, I had a little spin out, because I saw a kind of parallel with their scene in series 9. My version is obviously quite different to what the new series has to say about the outcome of their relationship, but I like it and it's actually one of my favourite bits of this story. **


	10. Chapter 10

Over a dinner of risotto, Harry told Ruth about his visit from Nicholas Blake, and what Blake had revealed about his Nightingale source. Ruth was not nearly as surprised as Harry thought she would be, commenting that it wasn't that unexpected really. "It was bound to be someone close to the Americans. I mean, we know Samuel Walker was also aware of Nightingale, and it's likely that he got some of his information from Jeremy Cartwright too."

They discussed the implications of Cartwright deciding to pass the information onto Blake, and what possibilities there now were of bringing Nightingale down. Having wrapped up the _Firmitas_ investigation, Section D were doubling their efforts on the Summit Hotel bombing, but Ruth told Harry she would check out the Ambassador's connections on the quiet. If there was anyone linked to him who could be considered suspicious, they could identify the key players, and that would lead them to the culprits who could be prosecuted.

Harry tried to persuade her otherwise. "I'm not sure that would be the ideal approach."

"Why? What do you think we should do then?" Ruth asked.

"During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act." Harry quoted. "So we start a revolution. First find the evidence, and then, bring it all out in the open. We have to make sure they have nowhere left to hide. There needs to be no room for this to happen again."

"And how are you suggesting we do that?"

"Well, we know there were several rotten apples in the CIA. At least. And the Home Secretary's tip off came from the American Ambassador. The cousins have far too many fingers in this pie as far as I'm concerned. So we start by working out exactly who in the CIA knew about Nightingale, and what they knew. That means getting inside Grosvenor Square. So tomorrow, I need you to take a little trip inside their mainframe. Download anything you think might be relevant, and get it to me. I'll take a look at it, and then we can decide on our next move."

"Hang on a minute, Harry." Ruth shook her head in confusion. "What's with all the _I_ and _we_ in this conversation?"

"You and me, Ruth. We're the only ones who know about this at the moment."

"_You_ are not supposed to be working, Harry. You're meant to be getting better."

"I'm going stir crazy here, Ruth. If you don't give me something to do soon, then I'm just going to walk into Thames House and find it myself."

"What makes you think they'd let you in?" asked Ruth.

"Who's going to stop me? They all know me as the Head of Section D."

"Not at the moment you're not."

"Ruth ..." Harry's eyes were determined but gentle in their pleading, and Ruth felt her defences crumbling.

"Okay, okay. I can tell this isn't going to work." She sighed, reluctantly conceding defeat. "I'll see what I can do. I suppose we always end up discussing work in one form or another anyway. At least this way you might stay at home long enough to actually get well."

Harry shot her a victorious look, but as she narrowed her eyes, he quickly replaced his smug smile with a grateful one. "Thank you, Ruth. It'll stop me from going completely spare, and I'm sure I can do just as much here with a laptop as I could on the grid. Besides, this way I don't have to deal directly with those jumped up idiots from the CIA. And of course that means there's much less chance that I'll have another heart attack."

Ruth's expression changed to one of disapproval, and Harry realised his attempt at a joke might have been going a little too far. He raised his hands in mock surrender, and she visibly relaxed again.

* * *

Borough Market was pumping with traders bustling about and spruiking their wares, and customers wandering around the stalls. Harry had taken the advice of his doctor, and was truly entering into the spirit of looking after himself. The market was full of fresh fruit and vegetables, and organic and international food, all perfect for his new eating regime. There were delicious smells that wafted around the walkways, and up into the railway arches, enticing people to purchase the food on offer.

About to make his way back to the tube station with a bag of groceries, Harry succumbed and bought a piping hot chicken pasty. It was a small but relatively healthy concession to his new diet. One that would stave off his hunger until he got home. He'd just taken a bite when his phone rang. Taking it out of his pocket and looking at the screen, Harry swallowed a mouthful of chicken and answered the call. "Ruth."

"Hi Harry."

"So did you find anything?"

"No, it was no good. I know I've managed it before, but the CIA seem to have added some newfangled contraption to their firewall. Kept blocking me. It's going to take time to find another back door."

"Okay. It was always going to be a long shot. We'll just have to find another way." He paused, stepping sideways to get out of the way of a passing cyclist. "Are you coming over tonight?"

"Well, if you want me to, yes."

"Of course. We can talk about what to do next."

Ruth's heart fell a little, and she wondered if that was the only reason. Over the phone she heard loud voices, and realised Harry must be out. "Harry … where are you? I can hear people shouting."

"Borough Market. People everywhere."

"Borough Market?" Ruth's voice rose a little. "Harry, I'm impressed."

"No need to sound so surprised. I do know how to cook you know, and how to shop. I've just not had a lot of time, or inclination, to do so in the past. If you turn up tonight, I'll provide you with proof."

"Well, I can hardly say no to an offer like that, can I?"

Harry could hear the humour in her voice, and smiled to himself. "I hope not."

"I'd better go Harry. This is meant to be under the radar after all, and there's a pile of files on my desk that I've been ignoring. And if I don't get started, then I won't leave here in time for dinner."

"You'd best attack those files then. And I'll get cooking. Bye Ruth."

"Bye Harry."

* * *

"This really is very good, Harry. You've been hiding your culinary talents. I mean, smoked salmon, broccoli and lemon fettuccine ... and now ricotta torte. I had no idea."

"I'll say it again. You don't need to be so surprised. I'm not a complete Luddite in the kitchen, Ruth. I never have been. My mother taught me well."

"I can see that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - "

"It's alright, Ruth," he chuckled. "I'm just teasing. I'm pleased you liked it. Perhaps it will make up for some of the many meals you've cooked for me of late."

"There's no need to make up for anything Harry." They were both a little embarrassed now, each unable to meet the others eyes, so Ruth changed the subject. "What are we going to do about Nightingale?"

"The way I see it, we've got two options. Or perhaps it's one. I think we might need to let Malcolm in on this, and get him to work on that back door, but that will still take time. So first we'll take the more direct route and visit the cousins at their office."

"Grosvenor Square?"

"Yes. I can get us inside by making an appointment with the Head of Station or one of his senior officers. Once we're there I'll keep them occupied, find an excuse to be shown something on the computer, and then distract them while you download the necessary files." Ruth was frowning at him, but he went on. "Malcolm has a little gadget he's been working on for quite a while, and I think now's the perfect time to put it to the test."

"I agree Malcolm would be a great help, but I don't think us actually breaking into Grosvenor Square is the best idea you've ever had."

"Can you think of a better one?" He looked her directly in the eyes. "Besides, we wouldn't be breaking in. I'd get us an invitation, on the pretext of bilateral cooperation or something."

"You _really_ think they'll fall for that?" Ruth raised her eyebrows.

"You're forgetting Ruth, I've had a lot of experience in the field. I know how to talk my way into places, how to convince people to trust me."

"That may be, but you have to admit it has been a while since you've been in the field Harry. Besides, this isn't any old group of people you need to convince, and word has gotten around about your hiatus."

Harry sighed with frustration and closed his eyes briefly, taking a moment to compose himself. _Don't make the same mistake as last time_. "Ruth. We don't really have anywhere else to go with this right now." He looked back up at her. "I believe I can make it work. But I can't do it without you. I need you with me on this, Ruth."

Ruth stared back at him, then looked away, shaking her head. "Alright. But I'm not happy about this Harry."

The evening that had started with such promise, ended with an uneasy truce.

* * *

**I love Borough Market, and it's been a filming location for Spooks in the past, so I was happy to be able to work it into the story :)**

**Harry's quote is from George Orwell: During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.**


	11. Chapter 11

The following day, Ruth spent the morning at Thames House focused on a lead for the Summit Hotel investigation which Simon had directed her to follow. She made time to speak to Malcolm, and convinced him to lend her the prototype Harry had mentioned the night before. Mid morning she received a text message from Harry telling her he had made the appointment, and what time to pick him up. She shook her head in wonder. _I should never doubt him._

Just before midday, she told Lucas she had arranged to meet with a source, and left the grid feeling guilty about not telling the team the truth. Catching the bus home, Ruth went straight to her car which was parked on the street, and twenty minutes later, she was knocking on Harry's front door.

Harry opened the door and gave Ruth a smile tempered with determination. "Come in, Ruth. I just need to get my mobile."

Ruth stepped inside and stood in the hallway while Harry walked into the living room. "I'm still not sure this is a good idea Harry," she called out. "I think we should talk to Lucas. He could come with me instead. You should stay here and wait for us."

Harry reappeared, ready to leave, with a stern look on his face. "I'm a grown man Ruth, stop treating me like a child. I know what I'm doing and I'm not going to break. Until we know more, understand what it is we are going to expose, I don't want to risk telling anyone else. And you can't go in there alone. You need someone to get you inside, and to watch your back, and I'm the best person to do that."

They stared at each other, eyes locked in a battle to see who would hold out the longest. Scarlet stood at Harry's side and licked at his hand. She whined gently, sensing the tension.

"Alright," Ruth said. "But I'm driving. You're still in no condition to be exerting yourself. And the doctor would have my head if he found out."

Harry nodded curtly, and ushered Ruth out the door. She waited for him to set the alarm, and they walked down the front path past a hedge of hydrangeas in full bloom.

Ruth walked around to the driver's side of the car, ignoring the petulant look residing on Harry's face. _It's bad enough that he's coming with me. I'm not about to give him more opportunity to end up back in hospital. _Harry was itching to get behind the wheel, but wasn't allowed to drive for another three weeks, and Ruth showed no sign of being tempted to let him bend the rules. If she had, Harry would have capitalised on it straight away.

As the car turned the corner, headed for a street not far from Grosvenor Square, Harry switched into Section Head mode, and started laying ground rules. Ruth was less than impressed.

"Harry, I know I'm not a field officer, but I do _know_ what I'm doing. You on the other hand must not, because I could have sworn you're meant to be recovering from a heart attack." She took her eyes off the road just long enough to give him a piercing stare. "I know everything you're saying, it's basic stuff. And I know I can't stop you from coming with me, but this is hardly taking it easy is it?"

"We're visiting the cousins. A simple hello and how are you. There will be no need for me to get physical, so there's no risk of exacerbating anything."

"Now you're splitting hairs."

"Ruth, I know you're worried, but - "

"Well do you blame me? Five weeks ago you'd just had open heart surgery and were barely able to walk. And now here you are blatantly ignoring what the doctor said, walking headfirst into a potentially stressful situation, when there are other people perfectly able to do the job for you." Ruth took a shaky breath. "I should never have let you get this involved in the first place."

"Ruth ..."

"No, Harry, don't. Don't bother." _I can't have this conversation now. Not when I'm about to walk into CIA Headquarters and do something illegal._

Knowing he'd probably pushed his luck far enough, Harry decided to do something he rarely did, and kept his mouth shut. _But only for you, Ruth._

Ruth drove on in silence. The sun that had been visible as they got into the car, had disappeared and been replaced by storm clouds that were gathering fast, and darkening as they swelled above the city. Neither Harry nor Ruth spoke again, and internally their thoughts alternated between rehearsing for what lay ahead, and reflecting on their shifting relationship.

* * *

As they neared their destination, Harry broke the silence. "What did Malcolm say when you asked for the prototype?"

Ruth looked sideways at him, and then back where she was driving, before answering. "I got a bit of the third degree. He knows something's going on."

"Did he show you what to do?"

"No, Harry, of course not," Ruth replied sarcastically. "Do you really think Malcolm would hand over something like that _without_ explaining how it works?"

"No, Ruth. I was just - "

"Just what?"

"I was just checking," Harry said, and then turned to the window, sighing loudly. "Forget it."

_Why does he have to be so damn calm about it all?_ Ruth was scared. Scared that they were going to get caught, and could land themselves in prison. And scared that Harry would do something silly, push himself too far, and end up back in hospital - or worse. But it was too late to go back and change it now. She flicked the indicator on, braked, and pulled the car into an empty spot on a side street. They would have to walk from there. Switching the engine off, she turned to look at Harry, who said, "Are we going to do this then?" Ruth nodded, her jaw set firmly, and they simultaneously got out of the car.

Ruth slammed the car door, venting her frustration and fear.

"Ruth? … _Ruth_?"

"What?"

"What's the matter?"

"You stupid man. What do you _think_ is the matter? I don't want to lose you!" The words were unexpected and tumbled out in a rush, but she didn't regret them.

Harry stood rooted to the spot for a few seconds, then closed the gap between them and pulled her into a hug, Ruth's arms quickly tightening around him. "You're not going to lose me, Ruth," he whispered low at her ear, his voice cracking a bit. "You had me from day one, and I don't plan on going anywhere. Not without you."

"Harry ..."

"I'm not going anywhere ... do you understand?"

"Harry, I love you."

"I love _you_."

They pulled back a little, just enough to see each others eyes, and as brown and blue met, they kissed without hesitation. It was a kiss that wouldn't be held back, not any more.

The storm clouds broke overhead, but the rain went unnoticed as it trickled steadily down the sides of their faces.

* * *

**This is not the end. There is more to come :)**


	12. Chapter 12

The walk from the car to the entrance to Grosvenor Square was tense, not because they were unsure about what they were doing, but because they were conscious of what was at stake. In more ways than one. If they were caught, it would be nearly impossible to explain. The Head of MI5's counter-terrorism department, and his senior analyst, blatantly downloading files from the CIA. It would most likely cause an international incident, not to mention the ramifications for their personal liberty.

Harry and Ruth had barely spoken after leaving the car, except to clarify once again the roles each would take. Ruth felt like all her senses were on fire. She could still feel Harry's arms around her, still taste him, and hear him saying, _I love you_. Harry felt like his body had gone into overdrive, and he wasn't sure how was he supposed to sweet talk the CIA when he kept replaying in his head, over and over, that kiss, and Ruth saying, _Harry, I love you_.

On arrival at Grosvenor Square, Harry brought himself back to earth and cautiously asked, "Are you ready?"

"Yes." She nodded imperceptibly, focusing herself as she did so. "You?"

"Yes. Let's go." Harry led the way inside and asked for Garrett Reed, informing the receptionist that, yes, they were expected.

Over the course of the next half an hour, Harry used all his wit and wile to convince Reed that he was in fact perfectly well recovered, and intent on bringing the hotel bombers to justice. They moved seamlessly from discussing Harry's health to Nightingale, to the involvement of Sarah Caulfield and Russell Price in the hotel bombing. Ruth stayed quietly in the background, listening and analysing, until finally Reed, influenced by Harry, agreed to show them the CIA's internal CCTV footage of Caulfield and Price.

Reed guided them to a computer in the midst of an open plan office and sat down, entering a few keystrokes to bring the screen to life. Harry offered Ruth the chair next to Reed, and she sat down. Harry rested his hand on Ruth's shoulder while they waited for Reed to locate the files, and she felt a tingle of anticipation at his touch. Just as the first video appeared, she felt the pressure of his hand increase as he let her know it was time.

Ruth casually played with her watch and leant forward, placing her hand on the desk. Her wrist was just inches from the computer tower, and both Ruth and Harry were silently praying that Malcolm's ingenuity would pay off. The watch contained a microscopic hard drive, and a tiny wireless receiver and transmitter which had been activated when Ruth pressed on a segment of the wristband. Harry and Ruth feigned heightened interest while Reed talked them through the video footage, and all three theorised about how Caulfield and Price were recruited to the Nightingale cause. Meanwhile, the receiver was busily downloading data from the CIA mainframe.

* * *

In the week and a half after they had stood in the middle of the street and unexpectedly revealed the extent of their feelings for each other, neither Harry nor Ruth mentioned what had been said, nor their kiss. Both strangely nervous, they returned to dancing around their relationship and mostly focused their conversations on Nightingale, though both knew they were only delaying the inevitable conversation.

Malcolm's watch wizardry had done the trick and they now had mountains of data to wade through. Harry had agreed to bring Malcolm and Lucas into their confidence because without them, it would take a lot longer to make any headway. After Ruth had borrowed his watch, Malcolm was not surprised when told what had gone on. Lucas on the other hand, was, and even went so far as to remonstrate with Harry about being reckless. Harry allowed Lucas to sound off briefly, but made it clear he wouldn't be so accepting again.

The four of them spent the best part of ten days working through the information they had liberated from the CIA. Simon wanted the team working on the hotel bombing anyway, so all but Harry were able to integrate it into their work on the grid. Without giving away how they accumulated the files, Ruth was even able to pass some of the work onto Tariq, Beth and Dimitri. Simon remained blissfully unaware.

Although their intention was to identify players in the Nightingale conspiracy, their foray into the CIA mainframe was so deep, that the team identified more than enough material to give them an upper hand in future operations as well. Material of the kind that led Ruth to one night ask Harry, "Did you know that the Foreign Secretary had a ... er, a liaison, with the wife of Jeremy Cartwright's predecessor?"

"No-o-o ..." Harry drew out the word slowly. He looked appalled and excited all at once. "Do you mean to tell me that the supercilious Daniel Stewart actually let his guard down?"

Ruth tilted her head and raised one eyebrow at him, as if to say, _you know exactly what I'm telling you_. She watched as Harry turned what she'd said around in his head, and a look of concentration played across his face. _That's one piece of information that is definitely going to be used one day_, she thought.

* * *

Harry phoned Nicholas Blake as promised, and arranged to have dinner with Blake and his wife Julia on Friday evening. Blake reminded Harry that he was welcome to bring someone with him, but Harry avoided giving an answer one way or the other.

Ruth had continued visiting Harry after work, and they prepared and ate evening meals together, but for the most part, they remained focused on work or stuck to innocuous subjects which didn't call for them to divulge much more than the names of their favourite actors, or which books they had studied at school. Most days Ruth brought something with her. One night, an exotic cheese, and on another a bottle of good red wine – Harry was allowed to indulge again, within reason. Tonight she had brought the DVD of a movie they'd previously discussed, and which Ruth had promised to find so they could discover whether or not Harry's preconceptions of the plot were correct.

At the end of their meal, Harry loaded the dishwasher, making a joke about how domesticated he had become lately. Ruth laughed, and seemed more relaxed than she'd been in a while, so Harry decided it was as good a time as any to broach the subject they'd both been avoiding. If he was going to ask Ruth to accompany him to dinner with the Blakes, he knew it meant talking about _everything_.

"Ruth, we need to talk."

There was something in his voice that made her suddenly nervous, and Harry saw her anxiety, moving quickly to dispel it. "It's nothing … well, no, it's not nothing, but it's nothing to worry about. I just think it's time we talked … about us." He reached across the table toward her, offering his hand, and could hear his heart beating loudly. _Come on Ruth, please don't let me down. Not now._

When she finally lifted her gaze from the table and looked at Harry, all Ruth could see were his eyes, gentle and full of vulnerability as he watched and waited for her. _Oh, those eyes. _She gave him a nervous half-smile. "Do you really think we need to?"

"Yes."

Ruth took a deep breath and accepted Harry's hand. "We kissed," she said, as their fingers entwined.

"I know. I remember." He grinned at her. "And you told me you loved me."

"Yes, I did. I do. And you said - "

"I love you."

Ruth smiled properly now, biting her lip and blushing. "What are we going to do, Harry? I mean, you and me, we … could we ..."

"We do whatever feels right, Ruth. And we don't worry about what other people think. It's none of their business. If I want to have dinner with you, then I'll ask you. If you want to go for a walk with me, or watch a movie, then you'll ask me, and I'll say yes. And if I want to kiss you, like I do right now ..." Harry lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, keeping his eyes on her. "Then I will."

"And what if ..."

"What if?" Harry prompted.

"What if there's more? What if I want more than dinner and walks and movies?"

Harry didn't answer straight away. He was trying to calm his heartbeat. Soon he stood and walked around to Ruth, gently drawing her to stand, and pulling her close. "Then you might just be in luck."

This time Harry found Ruth's lips, soft and encouraging. Intensely so. And then both of them were lost in sensation. Gently erratic breathing … the taste of wine … soft skin … fingers teasing the tiny soft curls of hair at his neck that she loved … the subtle scent of 'Ruth' that he couldn't seem to get enough of … the graze of light stubble on his chin, as his lips moved down her neck ... nothing else mattered.

* * *

**Still not the end ... I know, I'm a tease, but it's fun :)**

**There's just one more chapter to go.**

**NB: It's not a coincidence that the name of Blake's wife matches with 9.1. I originally had a different name for her, but after seeing the episode I decided to change it.  
**


	13. Chapter 13

The evening was a late one for both of them. They curled up on the lounge in Harry's living room and talked about everything and nothing. About everything they'd wanted to say for so long, but hadn't. Like the gradual realisation of love requited, but not voiced, and the painful goodbye on a dock so long ago. And about little things that would mean nothing to anyone but them. Like the book Harry found at a stall by the Thames one day, which made him think of Ruth, and the trip to New York Ruth still wanted to take, but only if Harry would go with her.

Harry told Ruth about dinner with the Blakes and asked her to join him. Ruth didn't take too much convincing, but she was obviously nervous at the idea. "Harry, what will Blake say? I mean ..."

"It was his idea." Ruth looked at Harry, slightly shocked, and he clarified his comment. "No, not his idea that I bring you specifically. What I meant was, he said I could bring someone if I wanted to. It's all _my_ idea to invite _you_."

"Well, I suppose that's alright then," she said with amusement. "Though I'm not sure I'm going to know what to say to a former Home Secretary. Not over dinner. I mean, it's a bit different to a meeting isn't it?"

"You'll think of something. I've never known you to be truly lost for words. And besides, there's bound to be some new political scandal to keep us all entertained."

Ruth laughed and burrowed further into Harry's side. "I'm afraid you're probably right." They sat content in each others arms, the fire flickering, until Ruth started yawning and innocently announced to Harry that if she didn't go home now, she may as well just stay the night. Harry turned his head to look at her seriously, and she smiled in response, resting her forehead against his and closing her eyes. "Harry ... there's plenty of time." Then she kissed him, and he pulled her closer.

* * *

A couple of days before their dinner with Nicholas Blake, Harry was ecstatic to be given the all-clear by his doctor, and he was allowed to return to work.

First on the agenda was a briefing with the DG who told Harry how they were of course all very pleased to have him back on deck_._ The DG was effusive about the wonderful job Simon Glen had done filling the breach, and alluded to the fact that he, the DG, would be keen to lure Simon away from MI6 on a more permanent basis should the opportunity arise. Harry restrained himself from offering his opinion on the matter, and merely thanked the DG for his support. They proceeded to discuss the investigation into the Summit Hotel bombing and the subsequent political consequences.

When Harry eventually walked onto the grid, Simon Glen was sitting at the desk in Harry's office. The two men stared at each other for a moment, until Harry's attention was seized by his officers eagerly welcoming him back.

* * *

Ruth sat at her desk and stared through the window of Harry's office. It was strange to see him there again after all this time, but it felt good. It felt more than good. He sat in his chair, the red of the wall behind him like a frame, and Simon stood halfway to the door, his annoyed expression visible to everyone watching. Harry was doing his best to keep his game face on and remain enigmatic, but there was a definite twinkle in his eyes.

When Simon finished appraising Harry of the Section's status, he left the office and headed toward the exit. His phony cheerfulness didn't fool anyone, but as he passed them, he decided to make a show of his departure. "Tariq, keep up the good work young man. You should think about coming over to Six. We could do with a bit of new young blood." Simon shook his hand with vigour, while Tariq looked shocked at the compliment. Harry had followed Simon out of the office and was witness to it all.

Just before he reached the door, Simon turned back to Ruth. "Ruth, I would suggest that if you ever want a change of scenery, I could find a place for you over the river too. But I doubt that's a likely scenario is it?" He sneered contemptuously, not able to help himself.

Ruth plastered a fake smile on her face. "The truth is Simon, even if I wanted to move to Six, you're the last person I'd choose to work with." She only just managed to keep her face straight as Tariq gaped, and Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise at her temerity. Simon sniffed huffily and stepped through the door.

Harry started to walk back to his office, and Ruth could see his shoulders gently shaking with laughter. She sat up straighter in her chair, turning to the computer with a genuine smile.

* * *

Just before seven o'clock on Friday night, Harry and Ruth got out of a cab at Nicholas Blake's house. Paying the driver, Harry took Ruth's hand with an encouraging smile. "Come on."

Ruth returned his smile, and squeezed his hand. Her hair was pulled up at the back, and the simple black dress she wore shimmered blue as it caught the light from a passing car. Harry marvelled again at how stunningly beautiful she was, and at the memory of her response as he'd told her so when he arrived to pick her up. Ruth had shaken her head in gentle disbelief, but grinned unreservedly when he'd quoted Shakespeare: _I do love nothing in the world so well as you._ Her eyes had sparkled as they locked with his and she responded quietly: _I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest. _

Now at Blake's, they walked up the steps and rang the bell, and as they stood waiting, Harry leaned closer and whispered in Ruth's ear. "We'll be fine. I promise you, Ruth." He kissed her gently on the forehead, then again on the lips as she turned to face him and returned the kiss enthusiastically.

At that moment the door opened, and Nicholas Blake saw Harry Pearce as he'd never seen him before.

Fin.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone for reading, and thank you for all the reviews, which I really appreciate. I hope you enjoyed the conclusion to the story.**

**The Shakespeare quotes are from Much Ado About Nothing.**

**Benedick/Harry: I do love nothing in the world so well as you.**

**Beatrice/Ruth: I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.**

**That says it all really :)**


End file.
